A Fond Rememberance
by Lady Feylene
Summary: Remus Lupin begins developing feelings for Harry that go beyond the paternal. (Slash)
1. Default Chapter

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Disclaimer: Harry, Remus, Sirius and the rest are not mine. I'm borrowing them for my own sick purposes and making no money off of this.

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Warning: Slash. Sort of. Well, yes. Remus/Harry. PG. Nothing too bad here, just some intimate thoughts. But we do have a male having romantic feelings about another male. Got that? A guy liking a guy. 

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Dedication: This is for Sevs Gurl. I joined the Harry/Remus mailing list, so I had to write a fic! I've been meaning to, but I finally got around to it. And to Kitten, who got me into the pairing.

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Author's Note: My first fic ever in first person! Whoa....this is a day to be remembered! But the flashback is in third person. I'm not sure why, it just fit. It's also in present tense. The story, not the flashback. Okay...takes place in Harry's seventh year. The war has been won, just recently. Good has triumphed, obviously. I just sat down and started it and here it is. Let me know if I should do anymore, or just leave it here.

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A Fond Remembrance

It always amazes me, how much he looks like James. I see him, now, sitting beneath a tree with a book in his lap, head bent over it thoughtfully. How many times have I seen James in the same position? Watching him now, tousled black hair obscuring his face, I feel a sudden pang in my heart. I thought I was over this. I thought I had gone beyond it, but obviously I haven't. Not if I still feel that sickly lurch in my stomach whenever I see him.

Sometimes, for a split second, I think it is James. When I see him out of the corner of my eye, or look up suddenly to see him standing there. I suppose I could fool myself, if I truly tried. If it weren't for scent. James' scent is branded on my memory, and will be until the day I die. He smelled of lemongrass and apples, and I was able to pick his scent out among all others. Harry smells of more of watermelon, and not half so strong.

"It's hard for you, isn't it?"

I tilt my head, eyes politely questioning. I have no desire to get into this with Sirius not now. He doesn't even know the half of it. He only thinks he knows, understands what it was like for me. I never told him *quite* what James meant to me.

"It's hard for me too." Sirius continues, and I have to hold in a sigh. No, Padfoot, it isn't hard like this. I don't think you loved James quite like I did. I *loved* him. Longed for him, yearned after him...ever since third year. It killed me a little, every time I saw him with Lily. And now, seeing Harry, at seventeen looking so much like our Prongs...

"Mmm." Is all I say, turning my gaze again to Harry. He truly is beautiful. He has a more fragile cast to his features then James did. And his eyes are his mothers. Great emerald orbs, deep and unfathomable. They stand out strikingly in his pale skin. He has a pixies face, arching cheekbones, tapered cheeks, a rounded chin. James' face was fuller, squarer. I have to stop myself, sometimes, from touching him. I'm too afraid of what might happen. Especially now. It is as if he knows, as though he senses what his presence does to me. Sometimes, he will press against me while walking by, or lean over me to reach something. I breathe in deep his scent and I close my eyes, pretending it is not happening. This past week he has been almost always underfoot. Brushing by me, or laying a hand on my arm, or looking into my eyes with that beautiful green gaze of his.

"He's fond of you, you know."

"Pardon?" I raise an inquisitive eyebrow at Sirius, wondering what he's getting at. There is a nervous cast to his scent, and I wish he would simply get to the point. I don't enjoy dancing around a point.

"Harry. He's...fond of you."

"Ah." I nod. Yes, he always has been. It tore him apart, third year, when I left. But I had to, Severus had left me no choice. Not that I blame him. It was he I went to, when I could not have James. Foolish and petty, I know, and I regret it now. But what is done is done. We go through life, and we hurt ourselves and one another, not even meaning to. James hurt me, simply by being. I hurt Severus, by using him. Sirius hurt us both, by betraying my true nature. Peter hurt us all, betraying us all to Voldemort...

It is hard, to love and lose. But what's even worse is to love and to never have even had. It was long ago. I should not be still pining. I should not be looking at Harry now, imagining how his lips would feel beneath my own, what it would be like to hear him breathe my name in a moment of passion...I shake myself, knowing well the direction my thoughts are going. I try not to let them, but it's hard sometimes. Hard when I have been alone so long, refusing to take a lover for personal reasons. It's simply easier that way.

Sirius is glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. He wants to say more. I sigh, and pinch the bridge of my nose. I hate when he does this, I always have. It's been this way since I knew him. He tries to hard to guard his tongue, and always says the wrong thing regardless. He was blunter, in school. Here, talking about Harry, reminds me of when he asked me about James.

~Flashback~

"So...you're pretty close to James, huh?" Sirius sat in the common room, glancing nervously at Remus.

"You know I am." Remus answered calmly, idly flipping the page in his transfiguration book.

"I mean...*real* close. Or...uh...you want to be..."

"Sirius, we are all quite close." Remus frowned thoughtfully. Was Sirius feeling left out? 

"No...I mean...closer then the rest of us."

"Sirius, what are you trying to say?" Remus looked up from his book, amber eyes focusing on his black haired friend.

"Well...itjustseemslikeyoulikeJamesthewayIlikeKatyaDevinshire." The words came out in a great rush, and Sirius looked as though he wanted to take them in as soon as he'd said them.

"Is that all?" Remus asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Uh......yeah." Sirius was flushing, and Remus nodded, before going back to his book. he wasn't going to offer up any information, and Sirius hadn't actually asked him anything, just voiced a suspicion. Remus didn't feel like confirming or denying it.

"I'll...see you later then?" Sirius asked, a confused look on his handsome features.

"Mmm-hmm." Remus flashed a half smile, and shook his head at Sirius' re-treating back.

~end flashback~

I never did give him a strait answer. But I'm sure he suspected. A boyhood crush, yearning after the prize of our year. Pretty-Boy Potter. It was far more then a simple crush. I loved James with a passion I have not felt since his death. I would often find myself lost in his eyes, a beautiful cornflower blue. They sparkled when he spoke, and I can still remember the way his lips curved when he smiled. 

"He's seventeen."

I blink, frustrated. 

"Sirius, why do you feel the need to randomly state Harry's age?" I ask, no humor in my voice, but annoyance.

"Oh, you know..." Sirius shrugs, drawing his knees up and leaning back. "He's grown up, hasn't he?"

"Yes." I nod. He has grown up. That's the problem. I had no intimate thoughts of him until recently. When I would look, and see James. But I have begun to fear it is more then simply a resemblance that draws me to him. He has a certain charisma to him, subtle, not like Sirius. He is full of life and love, and nothing he has been through so far has served to break him. I admire that, and am drawn to it.

"He's a good kid." Sirius continues, toeing the ground with his shoe. I grow tired of this. Has Sirius seen the wanton looks I've been bestowing his godson? 

"Yes." I don't feel like adding much to this conversation either. Please Sirius, allow me my lecherous thoughts. You know I would never lift my hand to Harry, in anger or in lust. I may look on him fondly, and he may haunt my more explicit dreams, but that is all. And there is truly no harm in that.

"He really is fond of you."

"That's the third time you've said that Sirius. Losing your memory in your old age?" I arch my eyebrow, smiling slightly.

"We're not that old, Moony. We aren't even in our prime."

"No. We've past it." 

"No we haven't." Sirius sits up, his face serious for a moment. "You're not old, Moony."

"I'm old enough." I say gently. 

"But you're not...too old." The last words are almost swallowed, and I keep my face neutrally blank. I inhale, attempting to decipher what I can from Sirius' scent. 

"Too old for what?" I ask, casually. Sirius is quiet a long time, and we sit looking out over the grounds. It's only a few weeks until the seventh years graduate. Until Harry graduates. He still hasn't decided what he wants to do. He has considered taking a position here, at Hogwarts. Part of me wishes he would, but the more sensible part wishes he goes far away. It would be easier that way. I could live easily without him. I am well aware if I need to, I can find my solace in Severus. He has offered, in his gruff and brusque manner. We are both far beyond love for one another, but he is willing to take me as a lover, if only to chase away the nightmares.

"Harry." Sirius says suddenly, and it is said softly and fearfully. I return my gaze to him, frightfully aware that is exactly where I had been looking. At Harry.

"What about him?" I ask, fearing I've missed some bit of conversation.

"Harry. You're....you're not too old for Harry."

There is a long silence. I blink once or twice, slowly and measurably. So...this is what it has been about. He has no desire to chastise me, but to give me his blessing. I am not sure what to say. It is exactly like when he asked me about James. I look up to the sky, my eyes following the flight of a sparrow that is wheeling and diving in the warm afternoon air. 

"Ah." I nod, and lean back myself. It is a warm afternoon, and I have unbuttoned my robes at the neck, to allow for some coolage.

"And he is fond of you..."

"You're not convincing me you haven't lost your mind." I say. I will let him speak, since he seems so intent on this.

"I mean it. We...uh...he...well, we talked a little bit."

This gets my attention. My eyes narrow some, and I look Sirius directly in the eyes.

"oh?"

"Nothing bad Moony, relax." He says, hands up in a disarming gesture. I glance over, and am embarrassed to see Harry watching us. He gives a small wave, before looking back at his book. I clench my teeth and look back at Sirius.

"He just asked...well, he asked me if I thought you liked him." Sirius takes a deep breath. "I said of course you like him. And he said no, he wanted to know if I thought you *liked* him. I tell you, I had no idea what the hell to say to that." He grins, dark eyes twinkling. "Really threw me for a loop. I had no clue. I just sort of stammered that I didn't know, and I asked him why. You know what he said?"

"Enlighten me."

"He said 'cause I like him'. I swear, I thought I was going to fall over right then and there. This was last week, by the way." 

That makes sense, actually. It has only been in the past week that Harry has begun to be...attentive to me. I nod, indicating Sirius should continue his little story. I am quite interested, but don't want to show my excitement. I have no idea what I plan to do with this information, only I have a need to possess it.

"He just kept talking. Told me he didn't want to make me uncomfortable, but he figured he should talk to me about it, and I didn't mind did I? I told him no. I mean, I'm his godfather. He said he knew you were older, but that wasn't a big deal, you weren't that much older, and he really liked you. Had a crush on you for almost three years now. And he wanted to know what he should do about it."

"Ah." I nod. Almost three years? I am amazed. This can't be true. I look over at Harry again, and our eyes meet over the distance. I swallow hard, and look back to Sirius. "Three years?"

"According to him. Claims your distinguished. I don't know what *he's* been drinking..." Sirius shakes his had laughing. "But, in all seriousness, I'm glad he's fallen for you. Cause either way, it'll go okay."

"Either way?"

"Well...I'm not here to tell you how to live your life, but I know your lonely. Lonely in the way that sex won't help. And I think you two would be good for each other. Took me a few days to come to that conclusion, but I did. But if you're convinced you're too old, and it wouldn't be right...well, you'll let him down easy. And you'll do it in person, not through me..."

I can tell that last bit is hopeful, and I nod. I would never use my friend as a go-between, certainly not for something like this. I frown, mulling things over in my mind.

"Think about it, Moony." Sirius said. "I know you...care about him. Or at least you're attracted to him. And I'm pretty sure it's not just because of James."

"It isn't." I say, rather vehemently, and realize I have given myself away. I don't care though. I don't want Sirius thinking that of me. It was, at first, simply because of the resemblance to James. But now I have realized my feelings for Harry are just that. Feelings for Harry. But what he would want with a foolish old man like myself...

"I figured. Give it some thought. You have some time...but just to let you know, he's holding off deciding what to do because of you."

"What?" Concern. No one should live their life for someone else...

"If he has a chance, he's going to stick around. If not. He doesn't see the point. And neither do I. Don't keep him waiting too long, Moony." Sirius pats me on the shoulder before leaping gracefully to his feet. He is still as agile as he was. I suppose he's right. We aren't that old. I sigh, suddenly wishing Sirius had never said anything, that I had never pushed. I look over at Harry again, and he is not watching me. A crush....how can I ask him to decide his life on a crush? And does he know what it is, to love a werewolf? I need to think. I cannot make decisions quickly. I must make my choice slowly, and with caution. But I must make it...

Rising, I turn and walk back to the school.

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Let me know what you think! 


	2. An Interesting Talk

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Disclaimer: Remus, Harry and Sirius don't belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for my own sick pleasure.

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Warning: SLASH! Very mild, but it's there. And teacher/student relations. Nothing more then PG though. AT this point. Who knows how far I'll take this.

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Dedication: To the Remus-N-Harry mailing list. :-) Hope ya'll like it!

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Author's Note: Wasn't planning on doing the next part of this so soon, but it just keeps playing out in my mind. I can't seem to stop it, and I have a little while to kill, so I'm writing. And sorry Brendan, but I'm not writing this installment naked. :-D

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An Interesting Talk

Chapter 2 of A Fond Rememberance

I sit, staring into the dancing flames that are at play in my hearth, lost in my thoughts. I have a blanket pulled over my lap. Despite the warm weather, my room is cold. I sigh, reaching for the cup of tea that rests beside me on the table. How have I come to this? How have I found myself in this position, in this situation? I always find myself walking a thin line, caught between two difficult choices. It seems to be my lot in life. 

I care for Harry. There is no denying that. And it is not just because of what I used to feel for James. I am certain now that that was just an excuse, something to pacify my rigid Gryffindor morals. I have become quite goof at lying to myself, convincing myself of my feelings. It is much easier that way. I am only fond of the boy because I was fond of his father. It is...understandable. There is no other reason I would find myself yearning for a seventeen year old boy.

But he isn't a boy. And I am not an old man, no matter that is how I classify it. I am older, yes, but Sirius is right. We have not yet hit our prime. Our kind live far longer then muggles, and my kind even longer. I can easily pass for mid twenties, instead of the late thirty that I am. And Harry is mature for his age. He has aged beyond his years. He has been through more in his seventeen years than many experience in a lifetime. But...I cannot accept it. There is nearly a twenty year age difference. I am old enough to be his father. Why would he want me? That is what I cannot accept. That he would truly want me. A schoolboy crush I can understand. We all have them. I remember in my own school years, our Muggle Studies professor was a very attractive younger woman who had most of the third years and up on the edge of their seats. But to plan his life around me...

I cannot have Harry do that. It would not be fair. He would realize that what he truly felt was nothing more then infatuation. And then he would grow to resent me. He would be trapped in the life he chose. Much as it pains me to do so, I know I must let him go. Not that I had him in the first place. It will not be hard. It isn't as though I am alone, or without friends and lovers. I have grown beyond love, I believe. There is no place for it in my life. I have my job. Dumbledore was quite eager to hire me on as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I am, more or less, accepted in society. I proved myself enough times that they do not fear me.

There is a knock at my door. It is most likely Sirius, here to try and convince me to pursue Harry more. I sigh, not bothering to tear my gaze away from the fire.

"Come in." I call, tucking an errant strand of tawny hair behind my ear. There is more white in my hair every time I look. I could easily mask it with a charm, but I feel it adds character. And reminds me of my age. 

"Professor?" 

I blink, my body tensing. It is not Sirius after all. I cannot look. I know that I will find myself lost in a pair of vibrant green eyes. His scent has already reached me. Like watermelon. Why is he here? I suppose Sirius has talked to him. And now it is my turn. Sirius' words come back to haunt me. 

"But if you're convinced you're too old, and it wouldn't be right...well, you'll let him down easy. And you'll do it in person, not through me..."

Yes. I will do it person, it is only fair. I would have liked James to have let me down like that, but I never gave him the chance. I couldn't do it, couldn't bring myself to. I avoid disappointment when I can, there has been so much of it in my life.

"Yes?" I manage to say. Calm. Polite. It is the only way I know how to be. I have never been one for the spotlight. That was James and Sirius. I was content to stand aside, eyes downcast and head bowed. Far easier that way. I learned early on not to draw attention to myself. 

"Just thought I'd drop by." He says, coming into my line of vision, wide smile crossing his face. He is wearing a dark red T-shirt, and faded blue jeans. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and his eyes sparkle behind his glasses. His hair is tousled, but I have never seen it neat. James could never fix his hair, either.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" I ask, cocking my head. I try not to breathe his scent too deeply. I try not to look too closely. 

"That'd be nice, thanks." He sits down on the floor, between me and the fire, legs tucked up under him in one graceful movement. I stand, and busy myself making him a cup of tea. I boil the water, pouring it over the tea bag, focusing on the weak fumes that rise up as steam. I ignore the young man sitting on my floor, though I can feel his eyes on me. I feel suddenly exposed. I long for my robes. In my private chambers I have forgone them, wearing instead a simple brown sweater and jeans far more faded then Harry's. 

"Here." I hand him the tea cup, and sit back down in my chair, curling my legs under my body and wrapping the blanket tightly about myself, as though shielding myself from view will ease my nerves. 

"Thanks." Harry smiles up at my from over the rim of his cup, eyes meeting mine for a split second before dropping. I swallow, hard. Yes, he knows...and he is using it to his advantage. He sips his tea, and then sets the cup neatly on the floor alongside of him. "So...Sirius said he talked to you?" It was more of a question then a statement.

"Yes." I nod, folding my hands in my lap.

"So...." Harry looks at me expectantly, face open and sincere. I feel my resolve melting. I do not think I can deny him anything. I long to run my hands through his soft coal hair, to rub my cheek against his. I am certain his skin is as soft as peaches. "He told you, didn't he?" A sudden panicked hitch to his voice, and I nod, not able to suppress a small smile that curves my lips.

"Yes, Sirius was quite...generous, in his dispensing of information." I say, chuckling softly. 

"Oh, okay. For a second I thought he hadn't." Harry grins again, relief evident in his expression. "Um...so...." He shifts, and I take a deep breath.

"Harry." I say, trying to find the words. But they escape me. I don't even know what I want to tell him. I was so certain I knew what was best for us both. But now I am not sure. It would be so easy...he is here, right before me, and I struggle to control my own thoughts and emotions.

"I am..." I try again, pausing as the rest of the sentence flees my mind. I have never been good with discussing my feelings and emotions. I was never encouraged to be open with my family, in fact it was rather the opposite. And I was the one, in our little group, who solved the problems. "I fear I'm not very good at expressing myself." I finally say, offering up a weak and apologetic smile.

"That's okay." Harry says. "Sirius said you needed time to think, and I understand. I just thought...well, maybe I ought to say something to. It was sort of...well, silly, to go through Sirius like that. But I didn't know how to approach you, without knowing."

"Of course." I nod. I understand this. How would I have gone about it, in his shoes? I wouldn't have. I never approached James, never even considered it. It was simply out of the question. I am not sure how to continue. Harry doesn't seem to be expecting anything, and yet I feel I must offer. "I...I have done some thinking." I manage.

"Oh?" Harry is still smiling, unassuming and pleasant. I find myself faltering in the face of that smile. What can I say? What can I tell him? Before he came in, I was so certain of my answer. 

"Yes." I say, and I know I am simply stalling. But I find it hard to think. He runs a hand through his hair, and I have to restrain myself from mimicking the movement. I know I strain forward, before I catch myself. I am undone. 

"Not sure, huh?" Harry asks, nodding a little. "I know how you feel. It took me a long time, to ask Sirius. I mean, I figured what chance did I have? I don't know what you're used to, when it comes to partners."

"I'm not used to all that much." I answer, honestly. "My kind tends to shy away from relationships of any sort." I have had a handful of lovers, only one which I ever went back to. And that is nothing you want to know about, Harry, I can assure you.

"Oh. Well, I guess I don't have to worry about living up to old ghosts, do I?"

His choice of phrasing startles me. Has Sirius mentioned anything about my old feelings for James? No, he wouldn't. He's not that much of an idiot. He's not, in fact, stupid at all, simply blunt. And he tries to do what he thinks is right, and often manages to make things worse.

"No...not really." I say, eyeing him speculatively. Could this work, with the ghost of James hanging over us both? Would I be comfortable, in that sort of relationship with James' son? I fear I don't know the answer. "I...I haven't really come to any sort of conclusion." I find myself admitting. Well, it's true. I had been so damn certain. 

"That's okay. I mean, I've still got a bit before graduation." 

"And...what are your options?" I ask. These are things I need to know. I must know, what I would be tying him to, should I decide to pursue this.

"Well, I've been offered a position with the Arrows. The Quidditch team. Not sure if I'll take it. Madame Hooch's ready to retire in a few years. I'd start out here, as her assistant. Then I'd take over. Either way, I'd be doing what I like best."

"Ah." I nod. Yes, both options are quite attractive to him. "What would you prefer to do?"

"Depends." He shrugs, as though it is no big thing. But it is a big thing. It is what he wants to do with his life. I don't want him choosing based on me.

"Harry..." I say, with a sigh, and he holds up a hand to stall me.

"Look, I know what you're going to say. And this isn't entirely based on what you decide. I'd be trying to make this decision anyway. I love Quidditch, and to play professionally would be amazing. But Hogwarts...Hogwarts is my home. I really don't know if I could leave it. It'd be nice, if we were, you know, but don't feel like you have to decide for me."

"Ah." I nod. That has eased my mind greatly. I am still indecisive. I wonder if now I should wait on Harry. Perhaps that would be easiest? But I know that is foolish as well. Me answer *will* help to sway his decision. I know that.

"That's really all I had to say." Harry stands up. "Thanks for the tea. You know where you can find me, if you want to talk."

"Yes. And you're most welcome for the tea." I stand as well. It is only polite, to see him to the door. I must restrain myself from reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder. I do not know how the gesture would be taken. I open the door, and Harry brushes by me. I inhale sharply, feeling the smooth curve of his hip against my side. 

"Um..." Harry pauses. He stands in my doorway, head cocked sideways in an avian like manner. He is chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully, and simply watching me. I am still attempting to recover from the way it felt when his body touched mine, even so briefly and chastely. Then he does something I cannot recover from. He leans in, quickly and almost fearfully, and presses his lips to mine in a fleeting kiss. It lasts only a second, but that is enough for me to imprint the feel of his lips on my memory forever. They are quite soft and warm, dry but not unpleasantly so. I freeze, unable to do anything. And then the lips are gone, and I feel oddly empty and alone.

"Just something to help you make up your mind." He says, blushing furiously. I cannot speak, but it does not matter, because Harry is gone in a flash.

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